A New Reality
by Hemamal
Summary: After the passing of her Father, a young girl is beginning about the path to her destiny. But life has its own twists and turns. Some are more jarring than others. A single decision can alter everything.
1. On Black Wings

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hellsing cast but I do own the plot and OCs.

**Author's Notes:** Hi guys and gals!

For those who read me before: long time no see and I know how long you've waited for this.

For everyone new: Hello and welcome!

I know I promised this story a long time ago but truth be told, I had no idea where this story is going. To be even more honest, I still have no clue. I hope as the story progresses I'll be able to see the shore in my sea of confusion. I have about half of the story planned out (up until Integra meets Alucard). The first three chapters are going to be insanely short as I am just getting back into writing. This is my first fanfiction ever. So be nice please! : )

**A/N 2: **I have no idea how the British give funerals or funerary ceremonies and I didn't really want to research it for use in only one chapter. I also don't know Arthur's middle names so I just made them up.

**Warning: **This story does not follow either of the Hellsing plots, so wait to see where this goes before making suggestions. I'm a fan of enjambments and breaking for effect and I don't have a beta..

**On Black Wings**

Chapter One

No rain fell, though the sky was heavy enough. Its coal gray burden adding to the, already somber mood of the day. It seemed as though England itself was mourning the final fall of its unsung hero.

The precession wound slowly along the paved road. Black flags wisped limply at half mass from car antennas. The hum of engine muted as though groaning in pain. No other sound, human or animal, pierced the air.

The lead car, a stretch limo, crawled to a final stop. Somber figures approached each side to release three from their black glided prison. The first, a gangly figure, stood tall for all to see, whipping the imaginary creases from his high priced black suit. Greased hair pulled back and smoothed to a dull gleam. His face was placid, not from captive grief, but from something far more grim. The second figure emerged, dark graying hair pulled back in a neat pony tail, without flourish, his attention solely on the one who was the last to emerge.

Lastly, a petite girl took the hand of the second figure. With poise, she slips silently from the car. Her naturally muted hair shone a gentle light in the dim day. She stands proud and strong, though anyone in close enough proximity could feel the grief radiating from her like a miasma. She allowed the gentleman at her side to place a hand on her back as they passed down the small embankment and the pathway to the grave site; the first man already far ahead of them on the path.

The minister droned on about the natural process of life and calling upon the Heavenly Father for strength and guidance for the family during this harsh time. The girl, now a young woman, heard nothing but the humming of silent air. Her focus only on the black box behind the robed man and the dead yet still brilliant red rose in her hand. Her fingers pressed against the already clipped thorns of the dead stem, anything to keep her focus. The chill in the air was nothing compared to what she felt as she approached the dark box. Within it, the empty coil she once called Father, Sir Arthur Wilson Gregory Hellsing.

In truth, she saw no use for such ceremony. What was contained within the box was no longer the honorable man, or patient teacher, that was once the center of her world. She would not be the weak little girl who would breakdown and cry as these _friends _would want. She would be strong as her father last wished. She would be steel.

Integra Fairbrooks Wingates Hellsing placed the rose upon the clothed chest.

Please review. Feel free to give constructive feedback but no flaming. I will block you!


	2. Halo Resolve

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hellsing or the Hellsing cast (Kouta Hirano does, lucky bastard!) but I do own the plot and OCs.

**Author's Notes: **Well here is chapter 2 and much longer to boot! As I said before beginnings and endings are the hardest things for me to write—no matter the genre or type of writing; so this one was much easier for me to right. The voice is one that just crafted its self for this chapter (hopefully it sticks when I write older Integra).

**A/N 2 (Spoiler?): **I loathed how Walter turned traitor—seemingly for no reason—in the manga (Maybe The Dawn will explain it better). So Walter will most likely keep his honorable membership in the Hellsing Club.

**A/N 3: **The last half a page of this chapter is was torture to write down. I hope it doesn't come across that way though. Please excuse the grammar.

**Halo Resolve**

Chapter Two

Early morning, tawny light slipped passed the drawn bay curtains. The occupant, one Integra Hellsing, lay awake for some time. She had been awake long before the maid came in to draw back the curtain and left a cover dish—no doubt of her breakfast favorites—that would remain warm until she woke up. But Integra did not rise to partake of the meager offerings. Since her father died everything she tasted fell and was ground uninterestedly like gravel and rocks in her mouth. No smell aroused any pangs of hunger or wanting from her palette. She ate only to appease Walter. _Walter._

_ 'How stupid I was to send him away,' _she though, her mind drifted back to the night after the funeral.

Integra walked the dark manor halls as she did every night before bed, when she heard voices coming from her father's office.

"Walter, this mission is of the utmost importance and must be handled as quickly and quietly as possible!"

"I understand this, Master Richard, but I don't believe that this is the appropriate time to be leaving Miss Integra alone, especially at this immediate time. Couldn't a small squad be assembled to handle this recent outbreak in South America? It is rather minimal."

"Alone? She would hardly be alone with a house full of guards and servants. I don't understand this hesitation. I am assigning you to this mission because I believe you are the most suited to handle this assignment most effectively. You are a solider of Hellsing! When Hellsing gives you an order you are suppose to accept your assignment without question." Richard banged his closed fist onto the dense mahogany Hellsing desk.

"With all due respect, Master Richard," Walter said with a cool, yet respectful tone. "But you are not the leader of Hellsing."

Richard's face was a tomato red amalgamation of rage, indignation and confusion. His mouth opening and closing, only loose syllables of what were meant to be words sputtered limply through the air. Walter remained placid and unmovable as steel, only the subtle movements of his clenched fist showed his true temperament.

"But I am."

Both turned in surprise. So focused on each other, the men were, that they didn't hear her open the heavy door or the soft steps on the solid marble floor.

"My Lady…"

"Walter, you were given a mission. I trust my uncle would not send you about on a wild goose chase."

"Of course not, my lady, but—"

"I do not need to be coddled, Walter. I came to terms with my father's passing long before he took his last breath. I will be fine. Your orders are to find these targets and silence them. Understood?"

Shocked awe sprang on both men's faces by the tone of this girl standing before them, the tone of a harden commander. Only Walter could see the slight haze of pain held behind the guise of ice. _'So much like her father already.' _In admiration of her front, he decided to honor her wish, though his eyes were alight with an equally sad smile.

"Of course, Ma'am, as you wish." He bowed.

He would leave an hour later.

Her actions that night were purely instinctual. The audacity of her uncle to presume so much about himself that he could deceive himself enough to think that he could take control of Hellsing even though her father left the headship in her hands. Integra knew even now she was far more capable to head than her uncle, even with age as her disadvantage. His skittering mannerisms and shifty eyes that could not hide the most basic of thoughts and simple calculations would leave him easy prey for those Hellsing hunted.

With a heavy sigh, Integra pulled herself up from her powder blue comforter and four-poster canopy bed; her feet touching the carpeted floor, her satiny dressing gown stirring around her ankles, mildly distracting. Though she had been awake her limbs were still stiff with the subtle weight of restfulness. Stretching to her full height, she goes about her daily routine of getting ready. Usually, when she wanted to get away from the numerous well-meaning maids and house servants, and her uncle's not so well-meaning thugs, she would spend hours exploring the mansion extensive air duct system. But despite her current mood the warm pastel vision outside her window seemed to beckon to her.

The Hellsing estate was large and lush. Passed the brilliant rainbow bouquet of the Hellsing gardens was a sea of freshly cut manicure electric green lawn stretched for yards in front of her leading to the deep greens of watermelon green forest. Integra remembered fondly the days after lesson, she and her father would walk the trails hidden there. They would talk about everything but the Hellsing business, about the day he met her mother for the first time, their courtship, their wedding day and the happiest day of his of his life, the birth of his beloved daughter.

They also visited a very special place to her father. A little gazebo nuzzled away secretly in a cradle of trees near the center of the forest. It was a place Arthur and his late wife use to visited often to get away for awhile. Even for months after his wife's death, Arthur would take his wife's ashes with him to their little hideaway. It seemed as good a place as any to spend for a moment of solace. The rambling of the nearby stream would be companion enough.

**Feel free to **Review**. Any constructive feedback, or impression, is welcome!**

**Morana: **Thanks for the (sort of) review. To answer your question, since Integra has such a large tongue-tie worthy name, we just assume that her father would as well. And its fun to make up names! : )


	3. Haze

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hellsing or the Hellsing cast (Kouta Hirano does, lucky bastard!) but I do own the plot and OCs. I make no money from this!

**Author's Notes: **I cheated a bit with this first scene. Just image the scene from the tv series. Though I changed some of the dialogue I prefer not to rewrite the entire scene/description over again. Sorry I'm still rather into the 'he said,' 'she said,' unless I can help it. I don't really know how to get out of it. Fragments at the end are intended. Beta'd by me.

**A/N 2: **Originally,this was going to be my first full length chapter….but it didn't work out like that. I'm not much of a 'chapter writer' I prefer impact. On the plus side, I have about half of the next chapter already done. So no super long wait (I'm planning on posting once a month).

For Updates about this story during the wait periods, you can randomly check my tumblr (it's on my profile)!

**Haze**

Chapter Three

_Hellsing Oval Office_

"What do you mean, 'you can't find her?'"Richard demanded.

"It's like we said, Sir. We checked the mansion from top to bottom." Said one of the three thugs

"That Brat!" He said, pounding his fist on the borrowed desk. "She waltzes in here last night, boasting about being the true heir to the family and then disappears! Luckily enough, in her hubris, she gave me exactly what I wanted. We have only a day and a half until Walter returns. We don't have all the time in the world. We need to get this done and over with quickly."

"I will not have this organization stolen from me by that girl. With or without the Queen's approval, Hellsing will be mine." Richard said, more to himself than the thugs before him.

"What should we do, Sir Hellsing?" The third thug questioned .

"Make no more mistakes. This must be done tonight There is more than just our skins riding on this." He looked pensively at the dark green of the felt on deep mahogany, thinking. "Have you checked the sublevels yet?" Giving the drones, what he hoped was, a dagger like gaze though they flew as dull butter knifes. But for such worthless, simple men as these it was enough to get the job done.

"Not as of yet, Sir, but it's more likely that she has already made her escape," said the main thug.

"No, that girl is still here. I can feel it. Black arts room, eugenics laboratory, autopsy theatre. Dungeon. I can find no better place for a little rat to hide. The brat is in the sublevels, kill her on sight. I already have the means of forming a legitimate excuse in place and our allies help to place the blame. Now go. I'll be there shortly."

As the goons left, Richard picked up the phone to place a call.

The air was fresh and crisp. The mixture of evergreen and deciduous trees gave off a pungent scent of freedom and ease, as she may her way up the umber path; strands of green overgrowing the rarely used path. Integra could remember vividly the times when she was younger, traveling up the same path with her father. She remembered the times she would run ahead of him and hide behind trees whose widths were wide enough to engulf her small frame. She would wait until he was a few feet away and pop out in the hopes of scaring him. Many times he would pretend to be startled but even to her young mind, Integra knew that very little could sneak up on or surprise her father. It didn't make the venture any less fun though. The fake gasp and the light that would show in his usually dim, piercing blue eyes would always make her heart happy. Then she would take off zigging and zagging up the path, but never far from her father's attentive gaze.

It was too rare to ever see any emotion in his eyes. They were always guarded in the with all the soldiers around, and her uncle.

The thickening air of the dust and grit filled his already clogging lungs as he descended the stairs to the sublevels, a trio of goons behind him. There hollow footsteps thudding on cold stone. The scattered overhead lights' dim rays adding to the hazy aura amongst the blackness of the narrow corridor.

"Found her yet?" Richard shouted to the two ahead of him.

"Not yet, sir," one of the two said.

"Well, get to it. I've waited over twenty years for this moment and I will not wait a second more!" He fumed. "We will find her, we must!" The sharp clicks of steel hammers clinked in the air.

There it was, cradled by a clasp of trees. Just on the other side of the bridge. The weathered white frame was graying, shedding its outer skin intermediately. The red top of cedar dimmed to mahogany. The crisp green shading it from the sun's light.

Integra remembered many evenings she ran across the now rarely used bridge to the gazebo. Her father, dressed casually in slacks and button up shirts, would trail behind her with picnic basket and blanket in hand. She would stop to peer over the almost neon white railing to peer over at the dark sparkling water of the river below. The sound of rushing water was always soothing. Small fish swam unperturbed beneath her shadow. Her sunhat alight by the sun seemed like a halo reflected in the water's mirage. Her white spaghetti strapped dress, her celestial robes. She would wait for her father to break through the treed entrance, her little shiny black shoes four to five inches off the red bridge base.

Integra remembered the brilliant sight of the sun shining down on them both when the image of her father as he came up beside her, giving her that rare smile, as she stared at the water below. He would tap her on the shoulder, reminding her of their reason for coming. Her father always looked like a warrior angel when bathed in light. _'I guess now he is.'_

She made her way up the bridge. The once glossed brick red base appeared more like dried blood; the chipped surface showing the blackened insides of fleshed pulp. The graying white rails reminded her of the pallor of her father in his final days. But Integra made an effort to remember the nights of watching the fireworks from nearby cities. She knew that soon the stunning thunks and fleeting pop-blasts would soon not come from beautiful chemical lights.

It was usually during those nights that Arthur would speak of her mother, Elizabeth. Elizabeth was a strong yet compassionate woman. Her intelligence at times would stun even him. Those were traits Arthur wanted his children to have and once he saw Integra he knew his wish was granted. He met Elizabeth on an assignment: a vampiric attack on a small estate. But when he got there, she was the only one left standing, He loved her instantly.

The planks protested with subtle groans as she moved closer to the center of the bridge. The sky was now more of a growing blue crack in a dome of green and brown. Integra leaned slightly against the railing. She hadn't been up here in so long.

"Where is this blasted girl?" Richard fumed. "Integra! Integra, come out my little fraulein. "

The pitter-patter of boots on stone rang into the dungeon air like giant ants. Thugs in pairs checked each door they came upon. One would open the door and the other would enter to check it, gun and flashlight in hand. The squeaky groans of opening and closing doors littered the air marking their progress deeper into the heart of Hellsing. Until they came to the last doors.

The final door. The hall lights barely caress the surface. Crusted stains mare the surface.

"Mr. Richard, are you sure she's down here?" The main thug asked.

"We've checked everywhere else. Where else would she be? There are only a few doors left. Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark."

"No sir, Mr. Richard, it's just that—"

"This one is giving us the creeps, sir," another thug stated.

"Just open the blasted door."

"Yes, sir," the thug warily responded.

A cold draft waft passed as one of the thugs opened the door. None moved to go inside. A chill like spiders' webs leeched to their skins, causing bone and muscle to freeze in place. The darkness inside the cell made the minuscule light in the hall appear blinding. An unnamable piercing hum filled their ears. They looked into the darkness as if they were enthralled. They were _not _going in there.

"Well…get to it." Richard huffed, seemingly immune to the aura of the room.

The thugs looked at each other than at Richard in disbelief. _Was he serious?_

"Oh, move out of the way. What do I pay you men for?" He fumed as he stomped through the entrance. "Come on," he barked two steps down into the chamber.

Snapped out of their stupor, they followed making a point to stay close to each other. The feeling of webs was nearly suffocating as the finally reached the floor; nails began to press into nerves. They stayed close to the stairs. Their lights, dim in the pitch black, investigated for them.

"There's nothing here. Blast it!"

"M…m…Mr. Richard, there sir" one of the thug stated, his flashlight pointing towards one of the far corners.

"What in blazes?"

"Is that a corpse?" Another thug asked.

"Is it dead?" Asked the thug farthest to the back; all heads turned to look at him. "What? It's a valid question!"

"Of course it's dead, you git. Don't you think I'd be able to tell?" Richard scolded. "It's strange though. There is no record of this?" He said as he studied the remains uncomfortably.

Feeling emboldened, two of the thugs crept closer to the corpse.

"What is this doing here anyway?' asked one of the two.

"What did this wanker do to get left down here? It looks like it's been here for a while?" The other '_brave' _soul asked as he started to poke at the face of the mummified remains.

"It doesn't matter! That brat's not down here. So let's go." Richard said as he turned to go back up the stairs. With a shrug the others followed suit. None turned back or they would have seen the two hazy pricks of red gleam starring after them. The final shreds of yellow light brought forth the harsh coal gray mist trailing behind them.

A prison of blue. Her insides were tight. Breathing impossible. The blue grasped and manhandled her, strangling her with her own hair. Cold hands thrusted her upward for short gasps of life only to drag her back within its embrace, dashing her against stones, ripping at her flesh and clothes. Variable fleets of red her ghostly companion. The yellow rays above taunting her, placid white clouds stood laughing. Sneering trees leaned forward to have front row seats to her demise.

Living in the past only gives folly to the future.

**Next Chapter:** Till the Sun Rises

**Feel free to **Review**. Any constructive feedback, or impression, is welcome!**

I realized I used 'like' a lot, please forgive me!

**Big Question: **Seras & Pip or no Seras & Pip? I can really do the story with or without them so it's kind of hard for me to decide.

If you're a bit confused, yes, the railing broke and Integra fell into the river.

And yes, I had to do that slight comedic scene in the cell. Character saying that in anime/manga always make me have a Nick Cage, "no, really" face. But seeing as this is Hellsing it does have more of a reason for it. Anyways, I got a good laugh out of writing it.

I am thinking of writing the story of how Arthur and Elizabeth met.


	4. Till the Sun Rises

****Hi guys! A new chapter will be posted later this month but I have a favor to ask. I have two polls posted on my Deviant art page (now hemamal . deviantart . com) and I would like some input before my premium runs out. So please go and vote! My profile is public there shouldn't be any trouble, if so let me know! Thanks ^_^!****

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hellsing or the Hellsing cast (Kouta Hirano does, lucky bastard!) but I do own the plot and OCs. I make no money from this!

**Author's Notes: **The next chapter will be back to the present or 1999 Hellsing before the Cheddar Incident. It'll also be out later in September. I still have quite a few things to decide. (Seras or no Seras, Millennium or make a villain, etc.)

**A/N 2: **As you can tell by now, I'm not big on super long paragraphs. That may change in future chapters. Tell me if I'm writing too passively. I'm trying not to write every single action (like I've done a lot in the past). Tell me if you like it!

**If you're interested in seeing my process, go here: /d5cc049 **

**Till the Sun Rises**

Chapter Four

Cold dark blue and a blinding white orb was the first thing she saw. The cold air pressed through damp clothes to chain itself to her flesh. Black skeletons, that during the day would be trees, crowded around her. Harsh stone ate into her back like teeth. Her limbs throbbed, screaming in pulses for peace, for relief.

She was too weak to move, barely enough to breathe. She felt mute, out of her body but still trapped within it. Like waking from a nightmare wanting to fight and scream only to find yourself unable to do either. She could feel tears clawing at her eyes. Her breathing became shallower, nearly non-existent.

She heard something in the distance. Like the scuttle of boots on rock. She tried to tilt her head in the direction of the sound, to minimal success, a slight shift. A black form hung before her. It absorbed the light around it. Twin red gleams caressed her. They seemed to calm her body and mind instantly.

She should have been afraid, but she wasn't.

The form leaned forward, blearing slightly around edges. Even as the figure came closer she could find no true features. It gave off the presents of a man. A white softness caressed the skin of her cheek. A flash of red.

Walter stood paralyzed as Richard paced in front of the Hellsing desk, pulling at his hair. When he first returned and heard that his young Lady was missing, he wanted to rage. He had stormed through the Hellsing office's door on fire. Both for his stupidity for leaving and at that bastard Richard. Why had he left! Loyalties or not. Why did he leave? _'And Richard, that bastard! He must have had something to do with it_!' That's the only way any of this could have happened. Richard was a dead man.

Then he opened the door. Richard was ghastly. His already sickly pale appearance would now put linen sheets to shame. Ranting to himself about not being able to find her. The shock was enough to still even Walter's volcanic rage, diluting some of his heat. '_Was it possible? Could Richard actually…__**care**__ about Integra?' _

Stunnedby the thought, all Walter could do was stand there in silence. He wasn't sure if Richard realized if he was in the room yet.

'_Damn it. Damn it all to hell! Where is that girl? Where could she have possible gone? I've searched everywhere. Everywhere! Where could she be hiding? Could she have known of our plot? Could she be hiding? Waiting until the day of the ceremony to show herself? Then just waltz in and claim the title of the Hellsing Head? No, I won't have it! I have waited too long for my chance in the sun. I will not wait any longer. And Walter, Walter would never stand for that"_

"Walter!" Richard jerked up to see the exact man he was thinking of right in front of him, putting his hand on his shoulder.

'We will find her, sir."

Richard was stunned for a second. '_Had he been talking out loud? Did Walter hear his plot?'_

Richard retreated into himself a bit, like a coward preparing himself to be bitten.

"She…she is gone." Richard squeaked. Walter, confusing mousy fear as concerned sadness, softened his face and for the first spoke to Richard with compassion.

"It's alright, sir. We will find Lady Integra safe and sound."

When Richard's stance and face loosened, Walter saw this as relief for Integra's wellbeing. It wasn't.

_'Thank god he didn't hear!" _Richard thought with relief. "We must find her. We must find her quickly."

"Of course, sir, I'll contact the local authorities and create a search party immediately." With a final squeeze of Richard's shoulder for support, Walter walked from the room, closing the door behind him.

With a weight lifting breath, Richard moved behind the Hellsing desk to sit, propping his feet on the green felt. Relief radiated from him like stink. '_All is not lost yet. Our plans could still come to fruition.'_

_The Next Day at Noon_

It was a bright day. The sun's rays almost blinding white as they walked over the hilly incline to their favorite secluded little area of the woods. It was their first time back as a family of three, having only been two a little over two years ago. A man of creamy tan carried a basket laden with food and a blanket thrown over his shoulder; his bright golden blond hair rivaling the sun. By his side, a beautiful woman of sepia mid-tone brown with coil-y black tresses, carrying a young boy almost a year in age with bleach-y white hair and bright blue eyes.

The man placed his hand on his wife's lower back as they made their way down the steep decline. The boy sat quietly in his mother's arms as he looked around at all the new things around him. His little tan hands grasped firmly to her shirt. The evergreen perfumed breeze tickling his nose.

"How about here? We're pretty much in the center of everything. The river isn't too far. We could let Jason splash around a bit before we leave."

"That sounds good to me. What do you think, *Jeicey?" The woman cooed to the boy.

The man chuckled as his son looked questioningly at his mother than gave an accepted bubbly coo in return.

"I'll start setting up then," he stated, giving his son a kiss on the forehead making him giggle and his wife a peck on the lips.

The blanket was unfolded and straightened neatly on the ground. The basket was being swiftly emptied, its contents displayed in an orderly fashion. Sitting, the woman got out the dishware and began placing the food on plates. Jason crawled to the end of the blanket to touch the grass; his mother's eye never far from him.

A sound escaped the nearby brush. A bush shook noticeably. The woman's head jerked up quickly. The man stopped his work.

"Eric, did you hear that?"

"Yeah," he said looking at the brush a little over two yards behind him. "I'm going to go check it out. Stay here, Mira." Eric stood. "Don't worry; it's probably just a deer or something."

Mira stood as well, Jason clutched tightly in her arms. She watched her husband move cautiously towards the bush.

Eric carefully pried the thickly knitted branches of the bush. Seeing nothing, he was resolved to return to his family when he saw something black dash across his left periphery. Curious, he moved slowly though the brush and through the tree line. All of his senses were focused. He followed in the direction he saw the shadow go. Walking for several minutes, he thought to just stop and return to his wife and child, who were probably worried about him by now; but every time he tried to give up the search that shadow would reappear, taunting him. '_What is that?' _ The draw to know was inescapable. It seemed to be taking him in the direction of the river.

"Great! If this is one of those fairy or ghost things trying to lead me to my death, I am going to be pissed." He grunted to himself.

He could hear the river now, though the water at this end was rather slow, almost lazy. But it was more than deep enough to drown in. Truthfully, Eric was never one to believe in wives tales but he wasn't one who actually wanted to see something to believe it. Moving branches out of the way and watching his footing as the soft plush earth started to bleed into craggy rock loosely held by umber gray silt of river bed excess.

Finally on the bank, he stood in quiet confusion. _'Where had that thing gone?' _Eric ran his hand through his slightly damp hair. He must have walked for longer than he thought. As he searched the bank he could see nothing out of the ordinary: semi-polished pewter colored stones, the sapphire blue river, an opal sky, emerald and bronze trees and something… tawny. Hmm, that didn't fit.

Hours.

It had been hours since Walter started the search. His heart was heavier than ever. After searching the mansion from top to bottom and having heard nothing from the others, he began searching Integra's room for some clue to her whereabouts. Then an idea struck him. It had been so long, why hadn't he thought of it earlier. He remembered the early days of Arthur's illness when a young Integra would roam the yard. Sometimes she would even go to the old gazebo when things became too much for her. New hope sprang into his heart. He practically blotted out the back double doors and cut a new path through the wooded area. Then he saw it.

The graying railing, its center a ragged, gaping wound. _'Could she..? No. NO!'_ The pain was unimaginable.Walter searched both sides of the river looking for his fallen heir. Night fell, with no results.

Exhausted, both mentally and physically, he managed to walk stoically up the stairs to the Hellsing office. He knocked solemnly on the door and announced himself, entering the room after Richard's reply. Looking regrettably into Richard's eyes, seeing what he assumed was a glimmer of hope. His heart sank further.

"I'm sorry, Master Richard, but I was unable to find her." Richard's shoulders sank. His hands covered his now bowed face. A shuttered breathe could be heard, whether from Richard or himself, he was unsure. Even the lights in the office seemed to dim to a hazy, honey glow.

"You must find her," came Richard's muffled reply.

"I will not stop, sir." Walter stated with weighty determination. He turned about face, closing the door quietly behind him. A second later and he would have seen the grotesque smile that cracked into Richard's face and his relieved sigh as he leaned back on his stolen throne.

The atmosphere was an amalgamation of cobalt blue and ice white. The air was antiseptic and tangy; even still there was a sense of somberness and death all around. Jason had fallen asleep in his mother's arms some hours into the length examination. Eric and Mira sat outside the pastel white curtain. Both still sat in a state of shock.

Eric from finding a little girl, no older than 15 years old, propped against a curving tree trunk tucked, almost warmly in appearance, behind some bushes. The many bleeding scrapes and bruises were a testament to what she had been through. _'Who could do such a thing to a little girl?' _Eric thought with some anger. Mira was still shaking by seeing her husband bringing the fragile bundle. When he finally reappeared after 30 minutes, her fear for her husband quickly translated to the little girl in his arms. _'What if they hadn't decided to go on a picnic out of the blue that day? Would that poor girl have survived out in the woods all by herself, especially with all those wounds?'_

Just then the doctor pulled back the curtain.

"Mr. and Ms. Hanson..?"

"Yes." Both said in unison, standing from their seats against the wall.

"I know you are not the legal guardians, so I cannot go into great detail. But since you brought her in I can tell you that overall the girl is in relatively good health. Aside from the scraps and bruises, the only significant injury is to her head. She… she woke a few moments ago and could not seem to recall her name."

"Amnesia?" Eric asked.

"It would seem so."

"What's going to happen to her now? If she can't remember her own name, I doubt she can remember where she lives." Mire asked looking between the two.

"Well, I will have to make an official report to the local authorities and Children Services will have to be called for a placement."

"Placement?!" Mira asked, her uncertain eyes asking a question to her husband. Eric smiled reassuringly to his wife, his hand rubbing the back of her neck soothingly. Mira beamed.

"It's okay, doctor, she can stay with us."

"Are you sure, Mr. Hanson? She may have some difficulties—'

"Absolutely."

"I'll still need to make an official report."

"Of Course."

"Can we see her?" Mira asked.

"Of course, I need to file some reports and make a quick call. I'll be right back." The doctor said as the family stepped past him, giving their agreement.

Richard sat in the dark of the Hellsing office. The cold moon's skeletal beams his only companion. The shrill ring of the phone interrupted his musings.

"Yes."

"The girl has been found," an accented voice rang out. "But don't worry. Fate seems to be on our side. We shall move on with schedule." With a click, it was over.

With a deep sigh, Richard replaced the phone on its receiver and truly relaxed.

**Next Chapter: **A New Reality

**Thanks for **Reading!** Feel free to **Review**.**

**Any _constructive_ feedback, suggestions, or impression, are welcome!**

What can I say? Even the best can be fooled sometimes.

*I just didn't want to call Jason, Jas or Jasy.

I have no idea why I'm being so wordy! So many long sentences! -_-.


	5. A New Reality

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hellsing or the Hellsing cast (Kouta Hirano does, lucky bastard!) but I do own the plot and OCs. I make no money from this!

Hey Guys and Gals! Sorry about having no new chapter for a few months. I was, and am, a bit stuck on where this story is going (well not lost but a bit unaware of the events that'll lead up to it). But check my tumblr on Mondays for my weekly journals ( tagged/Journal) or DeviantArt (now Hemamal, yay ^o^) account for updates. If I don't past a new chapter I'll probably post a new poem in _Inside the Mind of a Vampire_ or post a short somewhere.

**Author's Notes: **This chapter is going to be shorter than I originally wanted due to pacing/event issues. Suggestions are welcome. I also noticed that FF doesn't add all the space I add to break up the different scenes, so it reads a lot faster than it's supposed to. -_- So, I'm adding mini borders.

**A/N 2: **I'm going to be posting polls on my DA & page pertaining to this story. The first is already up. Check it out. Vote!

**Special Thanks to: **Edericka, Kryza, and Soul93 for the follows and Annie Faith and Taylor for the favorite.

**Not Beta'd!**

**A New Reality**

Chapter Five

"I can't believe they are coming today! Today of all days. It's Saturday for heaven sakes." Richard whined.

"Our enemies have no respect for weekends, sir, neither does the Round Table Conference. They merely want an update on the progress we've made thus far on the recent vampire outbreaks." Walter stated as calmingly as he could manage.

"Yes, yes." Richard sighed, leaning back in his chair. "But couldn't we have done this over the phone? It's an awful bother."

"I will be handling everything. Just make sure to at least look over this file to familiarize yourself with the investigation thus far, sir." Walter said handing the rather light file to the man in front of him. Hopefully, he would actually read it this time. Walter did not want a repeat of the fiasco last time.

"Right." Richard said took the file and opening it as he slumped back into his chair.

'_At least he made the effort to open it this time…' _Walter sighed as he closed the door behind him. He was beginning to feel far older than his age.

A steady wrap of feet meeting cold concrete reverberated off the high arched walls. Despite the high lemon light of the noonday sun outside, the hallway was still a murky white umber. The white beams of light intermitted from random bay windows. Specs of dust waltzed to a lulling melody of silence.

The shadowed doors were rather heavy but gave way with minimal effort. Its opening granted access to sepia rows of ancient sawn leather and pulp smeared with printed liquid slag. Row after row littered with its own dulling rainbow. Following some unknown edict, or instinct, the strawberry blonde pixie of a young woman drifted through the depths of the darkening rows. The dark engulfing her. As she went further into the darkness her eyes adjusted, searching for a light she knew she would find there.

"CASSANDRA*!

"Seras, "a voice spoke from behind her, making her jump. "We're in a library. Have some tact."

"Christ, you scared me!"

"You should always be aware of your surroundings. Besides, you walked right past me a few rows back."

"Oh…" Seras said with a nervous chuckle. In the dark, her friend was even more imposing than she was in the light. Her long almost platinum blonde hair showed a ghastly white in the limited light. Her rounded glasses reflected almost completely overcame her eyes. The white sundress could certainly pass for something from another century. Making Seras's own plain white t-shirt and blue jeans seem even more pedestrian. The tall shadowed rows of books were the only thing that could dwarf her impressive height. Cassandra could easily pass for a ghost if some unknowing person came upon her unaware. Or some type of princess.

It was hard for most people to believe they were even friends. But they were and had been since they were in there early teens. Seras, the bubbly, flighty one that could, somehow, manage to con the focused, almost reclusive, Cassandra into having fun; and Cassandra, the calm, controlled one who would keep the overly naïve, innocent Seras tethered to reality. They were a rather odd pair. But they seemed a pretty snug fit to any who were around long enough.

"Have you ever thought about thought about cutting your hair?" Seras asked, gaining a perplexed, almost smile from Cassandra. Seras could be so scattered sometimes.

"What is it you want, Seras?" Cassandra asked as he placed her arm full of books on the table, moving around to return to her vacant seat.

"Just wanted to see what you were up to. It's a beautiful day out. But of course you would have yourself locked up in this musty old library. So whatcha working on?" She asked a bit peeved. "You're always in here!"

"And you never are." She said with a friendly smirk. "I'm working on my research paper and presentation."

"Presentation?" Seras's face scrunched a bit thinking. "…for history?!" That isn't due for two more months! You're working on it now?" She asked flabbergasted.

"Yes. Unlike '_some'_ people, I'm not a fan of a last minute all-nighters." Cassandra smirked again.

"Yeah, well…at least it gets done." Seras said sheepishly. "What are you going to be doing after this?"

"Going to my parents for lunch then home."

"Well that should like fun… You know '_most'_ people go to college to get _'away'_ from home." She said a bit peevishly.

"Well, I am not amongst those ranks."

"Obviously… Well, I'll see ya later." Seras said turning around to walk away.

"Wait, what did you have to talk to me about? Why were you looking for me?" Cassandra asked.

"Oh, nothing. I just felt like bothering you, making sure you didn't join the lieges of the undead." Seras gushed overly chipper.

"So you just came here to waste my time," Cassandra stated more than a little peeved.

"Yeah!" Seras stated with impish glee. "All work and no play makes Cassy a very dull girl."

"Seras…" Cassandra deadpanned.

"Buh-bye now!" Seras said as she scampered away.

Cassandra broke into a slight smile and chuckled as she watched her friend dash away back up the doors. Seras was a handful but she did keep her life from becoming too routine.

With an easy sigh, Cassandra got back to work.

"Sir Richard, what are you planning to do with these recent vampire outbreaks? There has been far too many as of late. There is only so much we can cover up." Said Sir Castlebury.

"Hellsing has been handling this as best we can. There is only so much we can so at present. Our forces have already been spread frightfully thin." Richard stated trying to sound as diplomatic as he could, though his slight attitude still managed to peek through.

"Well, it seems your best isn't quite good enough," said Sir Islands still seething with anger since the last progress report. Imagine, losing over twenty men in a single ghoul outbreak. Arthur must be rolling in his grave! "Perhaps you should pick better trained men."

"Or better weaponry. Most of the budget allotted to you to outfit this organization isn't even going to use for that. In fact, we all really don't know where it's going as of late. "Sir Williams stated, all the other knights nodded in agreement.

"I'm doing what I believe is best for _'my'_ organization. I am doing all that I can to ensure the ranks are being refreshed as quickly as I can—"

"—with subpar ruffians with no honor, no notable skills once so ever! Even for freelance or mercenary soldiers, you choose those that are beyond the least to be desired." Sir Islands fumed.

"I will not sit here and be berated in my own home!" Richard fumed back, literally jumping to his feet.

"Your '_home?_' Hardly. You dishonor the Hellsing name!" Sir Islands stated with deathly calm, remaining in his seat, his hands plateauing in front of his face. "Arthur would never let Hellsing get in such a state! In fact, his daughter—may God bless her soul, wherever she is—would have more mantle* to run this organization better then you have done this past decade!"

Richard's eye twitched.

"Sir Islands, " Walter said placing his hand on Richard's shoulder to light push him back into his seat, hoping to defuse the situation with his words. " I am personally seeing to the current replacements. I will be personally seeing to their training and preparedness for the tasks that they will face."

"See to it that you do. I don't understand why you weren't allowed to in the first place." Sir Islands stated. Walter remained silent.

A bellowing boom rocks the mansion, shaking everyone in their chairs. Walter almost lost his footing causing Richard to fall gracelessly back into his seat.

The door opened, the warmth spilling from within making the slight chill around her more noticeable.

"Hello dear," said the woman a smile beaming from a face barely touched by middle age.

"Hello Mother." Cassandra replied giving the woman, Mira, a snug hug, genuinely happy to see her.

"Come on in, your father is already waiting for you." Mira said moving out of the way to let her in.

The warm was like a kiss on her skin. The air peppered with the scent of cooking meat and baked goods. The spice of cinnamon and sugar melted into her senses.

"Cinnabuns?'

"Your favorites. You've been working so hard in school lately I thought I'd spoil you a bit." Mira said as she took Cassandra's jacket and hung it on the coat rack behind the door. "Go ahead upstairs. I'll bring them up to you." Cassandra nodded.

"Thank you, Mother. Where's Jason?"

"Upstairs in his room. I only wish he would study as much as you do." Mira said a bit miffed but jokingly so.

Cassandra chuckled.

"I think I'll go say hi."

"Okay dear, I'll call you and your father down for dinner later."

Cassandra nodded her head in agreement, giving her mother a kiss on the cheek before going up the stairs. Walking to the first door on the left, she paused to knock.

"Hello, Jason"

"Sup, sis," she heard followed by light steps. The door opened revealing a boy barely in his teens; his hair a little sandier than its original bleachy blond, his skin a dark latte in color.

"Sup?" Cassandra asked her face in stoic query.

"Fine, hello beloved sister' he piped in false gallantry. Cassandra's face cracked into a smile. Jason grinned, pleased with his small victory.

"Come here you little knucklehead!"

Jason threw himself into his sister's arms as she hugged him back, placing a little kiss on his head.

"Hey, sis?" Jason asked as he peeked up at his sister.

"Yes?"

"Can you stop doing so well? You're really making it hard for me back here." Jason said with angst.

"No can do, buddy. You just have to try a little harder."

Jason released a grunty sigh.

"You can do it."

"Yeah, but I don't wanna…" Jason whined.

"Tough cookies," Cassandra gushed, giving Jason a nuggie for good measure.

"Alright, get back to work. I'm going to go see Dad."

"Okay," Jason moaned/ Cassandra chuckled.

As Jason shut his door quietly, Cassandra made her way further down the hallway, bypassing the door to her old room and the hall bathroom to her Father's study. She never knew why but she always got a weird feeling of de'ja vu when she made her way to her Father's study. No matter how many times she did it.

The heavy door swung open revealing the room full of books, a few pictures of family and friends on the shelves, medals on the walls. It was because of this room that she loved the library so much. The age leather was welcoming reminding her of home.

"You are late, Cassandra," said the man behind the dark mahogany desk with forest green felt. The man's blonde hair trying to lie relaxed to his head but some still managed to break free into spikes atop his head. His blue eyes never dulled but still a darker shade than her own. He sat in a comfortable sweater and khaki pants.

"Sorry, Father, I had to do the rounds you know."

"True. Jason can be quite the whiner sometimes. Don't know where he got that from." Eric said with a sigh and chuckle, Cassandra joining in.

"Well, come sit." Eric said pulling the chess board from the bottom draw of his desk.

The hallways were dark. The men stood in the only lighted crossroads guns at the ready, sights trained for unseen targets. The groaning moan of undead enemies could be heard but their sounds reverberated, leaving the small group only room to guess which of the three directions they were coming from, as they guarded the fourth, the way up to the third floor where the council sat.

The five were unprepared, shaking, trying to portray a sense of calm readiness. If only Walter had had more time with them. '_We're not ready to die, not yet!' _All of the men, unknowingly, thinking the same things.

They could hear the scuffling, slunk of fabric on carpet movement and grunting growls.

Some of them must have turned.

The sounds were getting closer, in-time steps adding to the barrage of sound. None entered the halo of the overhead lights yet. Still not giving any of the five any visual.

The five waited, preparing. '_They were not paid enough for this shit.' _Some wondered if it would just be best to run or to just open fire. But Walter told them that that would just be a waste of bullets. Just easier prey. '_If only they had more time…'_

Movement. Guns locked to the left.

To the right…

Screams could be heard beneath them. Fear marred many a face of the seated party. Sir Islands not one of them. His attention solely on the monocled man blasting orders into the phone, formation and strategy from what he could hear from the heated whispers.

Richard looked green. His fear apparent. The others whispered with nervousness amongst themselves.

Sir Islands was about to say something. It had been ten minutes since the explosion and Richard had done nothing but cower, letting Walter do all the commanding.

'_A Hellsing..?I think not.' _Sir Islands thought.

Sir Islands opened his mouth to speak. A visible shiver ran up the walls. The ochre light dimmed, a red fog forming. The shadows in the room stretched, elongating like fingers on hands. The air grew dense.

Everything stopped, looking up towards the ceiling or floor above.

"I'm going out," Walter, the first to snap back to the present, exclaimed dropping the phone on the hook. He made his way to the door.

"Wal-Walter, you can't just leave me here." Richard sputtered, peering like a child over his armrest.

"Don't worry, sit, I can handle this." Walter said as he made his way out the door.

**Next Chapter: **Arisen

**Thanks for **Reading!** Feel free to **Review**.**

**Any _constructive_ feedback, suggestions, or impression, are welcome!**

*Cassandra= Shining upon Men, also a 'Prophetess' of doom from Greek myth (She rebuffed Apollo's advances, he cursed her to see the future but no one would believe her.) Remember this

*mantle~ I didn't want a knight to use profanity and bollocks is just too gimmicky British for me as an American. I know some British people use it but a lot of people use it to make their character more British. Plus, it's a sucker punch, mantle=status, ability, a rightly earned title or station or placement (at least how I use it) and you know Islands means it as 'balls."


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